


Long-Distance Longing

by areciboanna



Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before Series - Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: College, F/M, Long-Distance Relationship, Phone Sex, This fandom could use more Covinsky phone sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 03:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20859290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areciboanna/pseuds/areciboanna
Summary: Lara Jean and Peter have just begun their distance relationship in college. Their deep longing for each other catches flame one evening, on the phone...





	Long-Distance Longing

**Author's Note:**

> I've been lurking in this fandom and read some amazing works in the past half year or so since I discovered the books and the movie. I especially love the college continuation / slightly older LJ and Peter character stories. And while many of the college-era Covinsky stories feature heartwarming, sweet, and/or sexy in-person visits, I thought their long-distance relationship kind of begs for phone sex. So here I am contributing a first-time fan fic.
> 
> Be forewarned that the Explicit rating is accurate! Only proceed if that's your thing.

Lara Jean's heart revved a notch as her phone buzzed on her desk and Peter's number and profile popped onto the screen. The profile pic was a candid shot she'd taken of Peter from one of Greg's parties. She secretly looked at it all the time; it was one of her favorites. He'd just turned around to grin at her when she'd taken it.

"Hey, beautiful."

"Hi, yourself," Lara Jean tossed back. Not for the first time, she wished she had Peter's ease with compliments. Idly, she wondered, did Peter mind that she wasn't so loose with her endearments? She'd never thought so -- Peter well understood that she was a private person, and saying these things casually weren't her thing. But in person it was always easier to show her affection in other small ways to make up the difference. Long-distance, though, maybe she needed to step it up.

"You have some time to chat? I'm just running from practice. I've got about fifteen minutes of downtime in my room before dinner with the team, and I have section after dinner, then study group, so I was hoping we could talk now."

"Yeah, I need a break anyway," she said, glancing at her clock and stretching her back. "This calculus problem set is breaking me, and it's week, what -- five? -- of college," Lara Jean said morosely.

"I know the feeling. That Western lit class I told you about with that hardass professor is making me feel the same. Like English at Adler was not even in the same league. But," he said, brightly, "you're a smartypants so I know you'll figure it out, Covey." As his voice came through the line, Lara Jean relaxed into that mix that was becoming familiar whenever she and Peter spoke: the soothing comfort in his warm tones with the barely detectable Virginia drawl, with a pang of almost physical longing that was always in the background with them.

"Ugh, I don't want to think about classes right now. I just want to talk to you and take a real break." Lara Jean paused a quick beat before adding in a slight rush, "I miss you so much it hurts. And Thanksgiving is so far away."

"Oh, babe," Peter replied immediately, voice low. "You don't even know. About twenty times a day I wish I could hold you in my arms."

"I wish you could hold me too," Lara Jean said, matching his lowered voice. "I miss your arms around me."

"Yeah? What else do you miss?" he asked gruffly. The intimate tone sent a shiver up her back. Something about how he said it beckoned her on.

Lara Jean took a breath. "Your lips... on my neck." She was aware of how her own voice had gone unusually gravelly. "Right at that spot. You know the one... the spot that makes me a little crazy when you kiss it."

She heard Peter's breath whoosh out. "Covey," he said, intense. "Are you alone in your room? Is Amy out?" Upon her murmured assent about her roommate, his voice went raw. "Good. Because I want you to know that what makes me crazy are your little moans when I kiss you there." A pause. Softer now, tantalizing: "What else?"

Lara Jean felt lightheaded as her heart sped and her breath grew shallow. Where was this headed? She wasn't sure. All she knew was that she wanted to keep this delicious conversation going. "I... I miss your hands on me. When we're making out and you slide them under my shirt. All around, like on my back... and my front." She closed her eyes, thinking about that. Her boyfriend did have amazing hands -- warm and strong, large on her small frame.

Peter groaned. "Your front. God. And what a lovely, sexy front it is, Covey," he said. "Do you miss it when I touch you over your bra?"

"Yes," she hissed. Normally she'd die with embarrassment to be talking like this, with the innate awkwardness of being so explicit compounding her insecurities and private nature, but right now Lara Jean felt emboldened, like she was a sultry vixen from one of her romance novels. She tightened her thighs together as her vulva began to feel engorged. It was the same sense of yearning for more and hotness she'd felt when their makeout sessions during the heady days of summer after graduation had turned heavy. But the stakes seemed higher right now, somehow, actually giving voice to the desire they both felt.

"I also miss when you take off my bra and squeeze my breasts. And when you... touch my nipples." Lara Jean thought, fleetingly, that she and Peter were on the cusp of some point of no return.

Peter actually whimpered at her bold admission, but his words were sure and immediate. "Covey. I want you to touch them. Right now." He swallowed audibly. "Imagine they're my hands, my fingers on you. Please, babe."

"Oh. Let me get my headphones, actually," Lara Jean said, fumbling in her bag for them. No way was she putting this conversation on speakerphone, and she didn't want to have to hold her phone up to her ear while unhooking her bra. "Okay. So you wanted me to, um..." The brief interruption took her out of the zone just enough that she was awkwardly aware of herself once again.

"Touch your nipples, babe," Peter returned smoothly, and just like that, hearing his sexy voice, she was back in the heady flow of this dreamlike conversation.

A beat later: "Are you doing it?"

"Yes. It's not like with you, but," she stopped, biting her lip. Lara Jean closed her eyes and willed herself to think about Peter's warm fingertips and the way they'd play with her nipples (sometimes this was in his car, sometimes in one of their rooms in furtive moments, and once in a blue moon in more leisurely moments where time stretched out in front of them). He'd almost strum them until they stood up, stiff with arousal. Though they hadn't explored too much further, Peter knew she liked it best when he played with both of them at once. That's what she did now.

"Mmmm," she said. Lara Jean could feel her blood rush, pulsing slowly, between her legs. "Do you like thinking about me doing this?" she asked, shyly. It wasn't as if they hadn't gone this far before in their heated sessions, together in person. But the words spoken aloud were a shift, and mixed together with their longing created a thick tension, like clouds gathering before a thunderstorm.

Rather than answer her directly, Peter said, in a slightly teasing but lustful tone, "You're really good at this, Covey."

She licked her lips, which suddenly felt parched. Was she in fact good at this? She didn't think so -- she felt like she was swimming in uncharted waters, tentative. But maybe she was good at this, good enough, maybe because they were in love and missing each other and that's what counted.

"You want to know how much I like knowing you're touching your own breasts?," Peter burst out. "I'm crazy hard. For you, Covey. Just with the sound of your voice and knowing you're in that room, thinking about me doing that to you."

"I haven't ever... God, Peter, I don't think I've ever been so turned on before."

He growled. "Damn, Covey. Same here." And then, shifting suddenly to a desperate, apologetic tone, "Fuck. As much as it kills me to not keep talking to you, Covey, I... I'm supposed to meet Kyle and some of the other guys downstairs in like two minutes. And coach gives us hell when we're late. I'm sorry." He laughed ruefully. "Didn't exactly expect our phone call to go quite like this when I called." Peter's voice went gentle. "But I love it. And I love you, Covey. Can I call you later tonight?"

Oh. It wasn't water dousing a flame, exactly, but Lara Jean felt a gut punch with his words. She knew it wasn't his fault, but still -- the disappointment in the interruption was palpable. She cleared her throat and did her best to recover quickly.

"I love you, too. So much. And I liked the call, too," she said, putting in as much sincerity as she could, as if her tone of voice could convey a little bit of extra feeling that Peter could pick up on the other end of the phone connection and hold tight. "Peter?"

"Hmm?"

She dove in before she could change her mind. "When you hang up, I... I want you to touch yourself." Lara Jean couldn't believe the bold words coming out of her mouth.

Peter sucked in a breath of surprise. "Okay. I gotta go. Love you." His tone was a little clipped and urgent.

"Love you, too." Lara Jean stared at her now-silent phone, where moments ago the frozen-in-time profile picture of Peter grinned up at her. It seemed incredible that that had just transpired. She breathed out once, slowly, trying to clear her head.

How was she supposed to go back to calculus problem sets now?

****

About ten minutes later, her phone buzzed with a text from Peter.

_*You're incredible. Call you around 11? Love you. I miss you unbelievably.*_

Lara Jean sent back a kissy face emoji. _*Love you. Talk then.*_

After a moment, she followed up with, _*Pretty positive Amy is supposed to be out at a party tonight so 11 is perfect.*_

_*Jesus, this is going to be the longest evening ever.*_

She smiled.

****

At 11 pm on the dot, Peter called -- just a voice call again, no video. Without preamble, he said, "LJ. I swear to God that phone call earlier killed me. It's like I haven't been able to focus on anything since. The guys thought it was weird that I was so out of it tonight. I had to tell them I was just super tired and might be coming down with something."

"I didn't exactly get a whole lot done on my homework after, either," admitted Lara Jean.

"When you told me to jerk off? Covey, I swear I've never come so hard in my life. Not even close. I just... exploded and I barely touched myself. It was incredibly hot. _You_ are incredibly hot."

"Thank you," she said, unsure if that was the right reply. Thank you? He wasn't complimenting her boots, Lara Jean, she chastised herself.

Peter didn't seem to mind one bit. "Babe. Covey," he said softly. "I want to have a conversation like the one from this afternoon again. But with no time pressure on our side, and only if you want to. Do you want to?"

"Yes," she said simply. So this is how people ended up having phone sex, she thought. Lara Jean had always imagined phone sex to be more prurient, too risque for her to imagine ever being someone who actually engaged in it, but now she understood: It was the outcome of the magnetic attraction of two people apart who missed each other so, so much.

"Do you... have time now?" Peter asked, tentatively. He hastily added, "I mean, if you want."

"Yes. I want," she breathed.

She could hear his relief and eagerness both. "Then make yourself comfortable. Are you on your headphones? Lie down on your bed for me." He paused to let her follow his request. "Hey, what are you wearing?"

Lara Jean cracked up. "Peter, that's so cliche!"

"C'mon now! That was a legitimate question!" he protested. "I want to know so I can picture it in my head. Even if you're wearing your Korean flannel panda jammies, girl. Maybe especially if you're wearing your Korean flannel panda jammies. They're adorable."

She glanced down. "Actually... I'm wearing your old lacrosse practice shirt. And my yellow lace undies with purple hearts on them. That's it, I'm afraid," she said with exaggerated regret.

"Oof. I thought you actually wanted me to last more than a few minutes."

Lara Jean smiled. She could feel herself relaxing as she realized this could actually be fun.

"Did you notice I didn't say I had a bra on? I was about to go to bed, and you know I normally don't like to sleep with a bra on, so..."

"Well, then, Covey, you're a step ahead. An overachiever, if you will," teased Peter. "As much as I love the vision of you in my shirt -- which I do, believe you me -- I'd like you to take it off and lie back down."

"Mmm, I just did. Did you have more steps in your plan, Peter?"

"I sure do," said Peter, his voice dropping low and sexy. "So let me just get my mental picture straight. Your shirt -- ahem, my shirt -- is off, and we have established that you have no bra on your beautiful breasts." Lara Jean giggled. "So you are currently lying down on your bed with just panties? Your yellow purple heart panties?"

Lara Jean never thought the word "panties" sounded particularly alluring, but she did now, hearing the word fall out of Peter's mouth in this way.

"Yes."

"And your headphones are in your ears, which leaves... both your hands free, is that correct?"

"Yes," she said, feeling her excitement building at Peter's vocal direction.

"Rub your breasts for me. All over. Don't touch your nipples yet." Lara Jean made a slight sound of disappointment. "Nuh-uh. Not yet, Covey."

She hummed contentedly. "Feels nice."

"Keep it up. I'm going to take my shirt off too." A muffled sound, then: "I'm back. Tell me what that feels like, Covey. And look down at yourself. Tell me what you see, in detail."

"Peter!" she squeaked, embarrassed.

"It's just you and me, babe," he soothed. "Please? Try it for me."

Lara Jean took a slow breath. "Okay. Um." She cleared her throat. "It feels... hypersensitive. I'm aware of my hands circling around, and not being able to touch my nipples yet is... kind of hot. My nipples are actually, well, getting a little stiff even without me touching them."

"Good. Now close your eyes" -- she did -- "and now just touch the very tip of one. Just lightly."

"Mmm."

"You with me? Okay, now do both nipples now. Just the tips. Super gently."

She inhaled sharply. Lara Jean was on edge now, body like a taut string. "Yeah," she moaned.

"Now a bit harder. Are your eyes still closed? Be a little rougher and pretend it's me there, my hands on you."

She stroked and rubbed. God, it did always turn her on to see Peter's large hands palming her breasts. "Oh, Peter. That feels sooo nice." The familiar throbbing was back between her legs, and she began undulating her hips subtly without thinking.

"Does it? God, I wish I actually were there to touch you... make your nipples stand out. I only ever want to make you feel good, Covey."

"I know, babe. What now?" she asked, her breath starting coming in shallower pants.

"Can you... try to rub both nipples at the same time with one hand."

"I -- I can, just barely."

"Good. Slide your other hand down your stomach and over your panties." Lara Jean smoothed her right hand down as Peter asked. She did hope her left hand didn't cramp, but she was damned if she was going to stop.

"Run your fingers over where your panties cover your pussy."

"Oh. It's... pretty wet, Peter."

"Is it?" he asked. The conspiratorial tone sent shivers up her spine again. It wasn't like having him there, not by a mile, but there was this intimacy in his voice that enveloped her like a warm river current.

"Yes. And... I can feel my clit through my panties." Lara Jean couldn't believe how much she stopped caring about the crudeness, the naughtiness of their language. It was almost like her desire formed a moat around her that embarrassment couldn't touch.

Peter let out a half-choke, half-moan. "Jesus, Covey. I can't wait anymore... I'm going to take my cock out."

"Yes, babe. I want you to feel good too," moaned Lara Jean.

"I'm so hard for you. Do you want me to touch my cock while you feel your pussy?"

"Yes."

"Dip your finger inside your panties, babe." Lara Jean groaned. Had she ever been this aroused? She couldn't remember if she had. Her hand was getting coated as she followed Peter's suggestion, and she could feel more dripping wetness gathering.

"Peter... I'm going to rub myself. And I'm taking my panties off."

"Do it, Covey. I also want you to put a finger inside. Just like I'd do if I were there. Think about my fingers inside you. In and out."

"Oh my God, Peter."

"Yes, baby, keep going. I've got some lube in my hand and I'm just pumping. If I keep thinking about you fingering yourself, I might just come with that alone," he panted.

"Ohhh," Lara Jean keened. She was still trying to strum her nipples with her left hand, but as she progressed in her pleasure, her hand got sloppier. Her nipples started to feel a little oversensitive. Lara Jean abandoned her breasts temporarily and put both her hands to work, one on her clit, one inside her vagina.

"Covey, fuck, is that -- I think I can hear your hand moving in your pussy, Covey. Or am I hearing things?" Peter practically begged.

"I think it is. I'm so, so wet, Peter."

He ground out, "I'm definitely going to come soon." Lara Jean envisioned Peter, in his room, boxer briefs pushed down to his knees, eyes squeezed shut, stroking on his hard cock, faster and faster. She sped her own strokes on her clit.

"I'm close, Peter."

"Tell me."

"Feels so good. Yesss," she gasped.

"Keep going, babe, my sexy baby..."

"I can almost --"

"Covey, come for me --"

"Oh! Yes, it's there I'm there, right there Peter oh God I'm coming!" Lara Jean felt the bloom through her body in intense waves. Her body pulsed around her fingers. She was vaguely aware of Peter's strangled shout. The thought flashed through her head that she'd like to actually see him come, to see his body and handsome face contort with the pleasure that she could hear -- both because it'd be so hot, and also to see the semen that right now was just a byproduct of that pleasure but that maybe, someday, would be welcome inside her. She shook her head at her errant musing as she came down from her high.

"Peter?" Lara Jean ventured softly.

Hard breathing. "I came too, Covey." He sounded a little disoriented.

They were both silent on the line but for their slowing breaths. After nearly a minute, Peter spoke. "I think I just beat my personal best on hardest orgasm on the same day as my previous personal best."

Lara Jean smiled, a little giddy. "I know I'm not, like, the most experienced in sexual matters, Peter, but I'm pretty sure it's not a competition like that." Peter harumphed.

After another leisurely stretch of silence, Peter said, tentatively, "So that was new, though. Was that okay?"

"More than okay," Lara Jean whispered. "That was amazing. And I still miss you like crazy, but... that helped. I mean, in some ways it also kind of makes me miss you even more, but overall I think it helped."

"I love you so much," Peter said tenderly. "I know that was a bit out of your comfort zone, Covey, but it was super hot, and I think we were ready for it." Lara Jean hummed her assent. They fell back into a comfortable silence until she yawned.

Peter chuckled. "After that eventful night, let's go to sleep, yeah? I'll stay on the line if you stay on the line."

"Yeah." Lara Jean stretched to turn off her desk lamp, grabbing fresh underwear to replace her sopping ones and throwing on Peter's t-shirt once again. She settled back into bed, this time under the covers.

"G'night, Peter."

"Good night, love. Sweet dreams."

"I'll dream of you, then," Lara Jean murmured. Her body thrummed with satisfaction and the certainty of Peter's presence.

"Aw, Covey, you player," Peter said quietly. She could hear the smile in his voice as she drifted off.


End file.
